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en-usTue, 31 Mar 2015 14:06:42 -0400Canadian Doctors&#8217; Religious Freedom Under Threat http://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2015/02/canadian-doctors-religious-freedom-under-threat
Fri, 20 Feb 2015 14:26:00 -0500Wesley J. Smith’s article “The Coming of Medical Martyrdom” highlights a concern that is ever present in my own mind. As Smith notes, the College of Physicians and Surgeons of Saskatchewan has a new draft ethics policy that would force physicians to facilitate procedures to which they object for moral or religious reasons (including abortion andsince a recent court decisioneuthanasia) by referring patients to doctors willing to perform the procedures.

But it’s not just Saskatchewan. The College of Physicians and Surgeons of Ontario earlier published a similar document. And today is the final day that they are accepting comments from the public on the policy. I urge those with concerns to make their voices known. You can see the letter I sent here (I’ll be sending a similar letter to Saskatchewan’s College; you can contact them at communications@sps.sk.ca) Feel free to borrow any of the ideas I mention for your own letters.

My wife is a medical resident here in Canada, so we’ve been following these policy announcements with a fair amount of trepidation. I ask you to keep all medical professionals in Canada in prayer at this troubling time.

]]>Mathew Blockhttp://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2015/02/canadian-doctors-religious-freedom-under-threatA Victory for Religious Freedom in Canadahttp://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2015/01/a-victory-for-religious-freedom-in-canada
Thu, 29 Jan 2015 15:52:00 -0500Yesterday brought news of a significant victory for religious freedom in Canada. The Supreme Court of Nova Scotia found in favor of Trinity Western University (TWU) in its case against the Nova Scotia Barristers’ Society.

Trinity Western University, a private Christian university in British Columbia, has been under fire since announcing in 2012 plans to open a law school. Despite public criticisms of the religious nature of TWU, the Federation of Law Societies of Canada and British Columbia’s Ministry of Advanced Education both eventually approved the proposed program in December 2013.

That should have been the end of things but it wasn’t. While a number of provincial and territorial law societies (British Columbia, Alberta, Saskatchewan, New Brunswick, Prince Edward Island, and Yukon) all recognized the accreditation, two societies did not. The Law Society of Upper Canada (i.e. Ontario) voted to reject recognizing TWU’s law school in an April 2014 meeting. Likewise, the Nova Scotia Barristers’ Society voted to reject approval of the school’s graduates. Later in October 2014, following a referendum of its members, the Law Society of British Columbia reversed its position as well, now voting against recognizing TWU’s School of Law.

The question has never really been about the quality of the education TWU would offer. As noted before, it had already been recognized by the Federation of Law Societies of Canada and British Columbia’s Ministry of Advanced Education. The former represents the national body which recognizes the validity of law degree programs offered in Canada; the latter represents the provincial authority that authorizes TWU to give degrees.

Instead, the issue has centered on the fact that TWU is a private faith-based school. While law schools at religious institutions are common enough in the United States, TWU would be the first such school in Canada. Critics cried foul, arguing that TWU was homophobic because the school’s Community Covenant only allows for sex within the context of traditional marriage between a man and a woman.

Understandably, TWU protested the actions of provincial law societies which had refused to recognize the school despite it garnering the appropriate accreditation. Consequently, TWU filed suit against the law societies of Nova Scotia, Upper Canada, and British Columbia respectively.

The first of these casesagainst the Nova Scotia Barristers’ Societywas heard throughout December 2014. Now, the Supreme Court of Nova Scotia has released its decisionand it’s an unambiguous finding in favor of Trinity Western University.

“There is no evidence beyond speculation that LGBT people in Nova Scotia are harmed in any way, however slight, by living in the knowledge that an institution in Langley British Columbia, which like any number of religious institutions in Nova Scotia, does not recognize same sex marriage but which properly educates lawyers who can practice law in Nova Scotia, where discrimination within the profession is strictly forbidden,” Justice Jamie Campbell writes in his 139 page decision. By contrast, he writes, the actions of the Nova Scotia Barristers’ Society “infringe on the freedom of religion of TWU and its students in a way that cannot be justified.”

“People have the right to attend a private religious university that imposes a religiously based code of conduct,” Justice Campbell notes earlier in the decision. “That is the case even if the effect of that code is to exclude others or offend others who will not or cannot comply with the code of conduct. Learning in an environment with people who promise to comply with the code is a religious practice and an expression of religious faith. There is nothing illegal or even rogue about that. That is a messy and uncomfortable fact of life in a pluralistic society.”

“Requiring a person to give up that right in order to get his or her professional education is an infringement of religious freedom,” he continues. “Private religious schools are not limited to training members of the clergy, theologians, missionaries, or those who want professional degrees but do not want to practise. Those institutions already do produce nurses and teachers and grant any number of academic degrees that are widely accepted.”

That last sentence hearkens back to earlier legal troubles for TWU. When the school had earlier attempted to open a college of education, the British Columbia College of Teachers (the educational equivalent of a provincial law society) refused to recognize the school on similar groundsnamely, because TWU prohibited its students from engaging in homosexual activity. The legal wrangling in this case went all the way to the Supreme Court of Canada, which ruled that the British Columbia College of Teachers was wrong to reject TWU on the stated grounds. Today, Trinity Western University provides education in a number of professional programs, including education and nursing.

The new ruling from Nova Scotia’s Supreme Court establishes a strong precedent for finding in favor of TWU in the two suits still to come: TWU’s cases against the law societies of Upper Canada and British Columbia respectively.

Still, there are additional problems to face. In December, British Columbia’s Ministry of Education revoked its approval of TWU’s law school, ostensibly because that province’s law society had also rescinded its recognition of TWU’s program.

As Canadian society moves in an increasingly secular direction, these sorts of challenges against religious institutions are to be expected. But they are nevertheless actions that religious people can and should fight. We have a place in the public square. And we should not cede it willingly.

That right is something Justice Campbell explains very well in the conclusion of his judgment.

For many people in a secular society religious freedom is worse than inconsequential. It actually gets in the way. It’s the dead hand of the superstitious past reaching out to restrain more important secular values like equality from becoming real equality. A more progressive society, on that view, would not permit any incursions by religion into public life or would at least limit those incursions to those by religions that have belief systems and practices that are more consonant with mainstream morality. The discomforting truth is that religions with views that many Canadians find incomprehensible or offensive abound in a liberal and multicultural society. The law protects them and must carve out a place not only where they can exist but flourish.

Amen to that. Here’s praying the upcoming court cases in Ontario and British Columbia come to the same conclusion.

]]>Mathew Blockhttp://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2015/01/a-victory-for-religious-freedom-in-canadaSlaughtered Sonshttp://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2014/12/slaughtered-sons
Sat, 27 Dec 2014 00:00:00 -0500Today we remember the Holy Innocentsthose infant boys of Bethlehem who were slaughtered at Herod’s command in an attempt to snuff out the young life of Jesus.We all like the Christmas story: the story of angels proclaiming peace on earth and good will toward men; the story of shepherds gathering to pay homage to the new born babe. the story of magi coming from the East to present the Christ Child with precious gifts.

The political machinations surrounding the nativity of Christ, however, are an aspect of the tale we tend to forget. Or if we do remember it, we focus on the flight to Egyptyes, Herod wanted to do terrible things to the baby Jesus, but God intervened, sending the Holy Family off to Egypt before the tyrant could act.

But while Jesus was saved from death, countless others were not. Back in Bethlehem, infant boys were torn from their mothers’ arms and slaughtered in cold blood. Given that tragedy, how can we in earnest sing that Jesus’ birth heralds “peace on earth” and “joy to the world”?

That’s the question underlying a deeply moving essay by Karl Persson entitled “The Shadow of Christmas.” “How can this be good news?” he asks. “How can we sing that song? Is our faith no more than a clash of kings, where we celebrate how the Chosen Onethe Messiahescaped, with little thought for the innocent victims caught in between? Is the kingdom of God just another ‘game of thrones’? What kind of miracle would it take to redeem such a story?”

What kind of miracle, indeed? It’s a question that Persson spends the rest of his article attempting to answer. “Jesus’ protection in Egypt is not simply an act of nepotism for a favourite son,” he explains. Instead, the child is saved “because the suffering reserved for him is greater.” “The weeping of Rachel must be answered,” Persson writes, “and He will answer with His blood.”

The picture of the Bethlehem mother distraught over the slaughter of her infant son will be mirrored as Mary observes her son die upon a cross. And here at last the sorrows of Bethlehem’s mothers and of David for his dead sonsand of Job for his dead childrenare finally answered. For here death itself is overcome. “And indeed, how could Rachel be answered otherwise?” Persson writes. “What mother would be satisfied with anything less than the unworking of her child’s death? Rachel refuses to be comforted, because comfort is not what she wants. She does not want comfort; she wants her children.”

It’s the story of Bethlehem’s mothers. It’s the story of David, grieving his dead sons. It’s the story of Job, mourning the death of his children. And it’s our story toothe story of all of us who grieve and weep and mourn.“We, with Job, waitstill with the tears of Rachelfor the time at the end of the eschaton when every tear will be wiped away,” Persson writes. “That time is not yet, and so there are still tears. There are tears, and it is Christmas. But thisthis hopeis why we can sing. Not because there is no suffering, not because there is no Rachel, not because there are no slaughtered innocents, whose blood indeed cries out in their feast during the season of Christmas. No, it is not because these things are not, but because HeChristis.”

]]>Mathew Blockhttp://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2014/12/slaughtered-sonsThe Evangelical Catholic Traditionhttp://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2014/12/the-evangelical-catholic-tradition
Mon, 15 Dec 2014 17:44:00 -0500The news that Russell Saltzman is leaving Lutheranism to the Roman Catholic Church calls to mind previous headlines. The story of evangelical catholic Lutheranismof which Saltzman was a partinvolves many people swimming rivers (be it the Tiber to Roman Catholicism or the Bosphorus to Eastern Orthodoxy). First Things’s own Richard John Neuhaus took one of the better known of these swims, at least around these parts.

As it happens, I had just begun reading a book by another of these famous converts when I heard word of Saltzman’s move to the Roman Catholic Church. I had in hand Jaroslav Pelikan’s 1964 work Obedient Rebels, an early work of his that attempted to situate Lutheranism’s place in the catholic tradition.

“Martin Luther was the first Protestant, and yet he was more Catholic than many of his Roman Catholic opponents,” Pelikan quips in the first sentence of the book. “This paradox lies at the very centre of Luther’s Reformation.” The rest of the book is devoted to exploring this movement which was, at one time, both Catholic and Protestant.

That the Lutheran tradition intended to be faithful to the catholic tradition does not seem to be in doubt with either Saltzman or Pelikan. Philipp Melancthon’s profession that “the churches among us do not dissent from the catholic church in any article of faith” is understood to be an accurate assessment of the intentions of the historic Lutheran church. No, the problem lies not in the Lutheran tradition, according to these writers, but instead with contemporary expressions of Lutheranism.

“What I have always sought,” Saltzman writes, “is to be in a church that finally gives expression to the catholicity of the Augsburg Confession.” But in his assessment, “there is no Lutheran expression doing that.” Yes, there are “evangelically catholic centers of Lutheran congregational life, and some that are deeply so,” he writes. “And there are evangelically catholic-minded pastors seeking parish renewal by Creed, Catechism, Confession, and praise God for it.” But these on their own, it seems, are not enough.

Saltzmann further notes that his transition “is not for ease nor is it out of mere unhappiness with the state of Lutheranism.” Instead, he writes, it emerges out the conviction that the Roman church is a fuller expression of the Church of Christ. Nevertheless, he is clear that dissatisfaction with a contemporary Lutheranism that eschews its catholic identity has played a part in the changing of his mind.

Pelikan held similar views. Robert Louis Wilken (himself a famous convert from Lutheranism to Roman Catholicism) recounts a dialogue that Pelikan is said to have had at a theological conference in the 1960s. “Pelikan spoke of that strand of Lutheranism that led people to say that if they weren’t Lutheran they would be Baptist because of the Bible,” Wilken writes. “He said that this was a misreading of Lutheranism and that Lutheranism was closer to Catholicism and Orthodoxy. And he added: If Lutheranism would lean in the direction of the Baptists or the Methodists, he would die in the bosom of the Orthodox Church.”

It cannot be denied that manytoo manyLutherans today have forgotten their catholic heritage. Sadder still, some groups who claim the title Lutheran appear to be so only in name. They have jettisoned the authority of Scripture and core doctrines of the historic churchfundamental aspects of what it means to be Lutheran. That these people continue to use the name only confuses the matter for those seeking an authentically evangelical catholic faith.

Yes, contemporary Lutheranism faces challenges, but the Wittenberg Way nevertheless remains a trustworthy, faithful expression of the catholic tradition. We do not need to go to another church to find that tradition; what we need is for our churches to wake up to the fact that the catholic tradition is already their traditionand to live out that tradition in faith and practice.

This is part of Pelikan’s argument in the final chapter of Obedient Rebels. “An evangelically Catholic theology must serve a concrete church or denomination,” he writes. “This is a fact of life.” The catholic tradition is not merely a topic for personal reflection and edification; it is meant to inform and structure the life of the visible church around us. Consequently, it is the role of every particular church’s theologians, pastors, and educators to reflect upon this tradition and remind the wider church of its importance.

“What such a church or denomination has a right to expect of its theologians is usually less than it does expect of them in actual practice,” Pelikan laments. “Usually it expects of them that they parrot, or provide learned footnotes in support of, the current party line of the denomination. . . . But the denomination does have the right to ask of the theologian as teacher and scholar that he deepen his own response to its confessional heritage, and that he help the denomination to respond more profoundly to its tradition.” That’s precisely what we need todayleaders to help Lutherans connect with the treasures of our catholic faith once more.

Pelikan, in the end, went East, but I will be forever grateful for the work he did in calling Lutherans to a richer understand of our tradition. So too I will be forever grateful for the good work Saltzman has done on behalf of the evangelical catholic tradition. I extend my sincere well-wishes to him and his wife as they make a transition that will no doubt be equal parts bitter and sweet, and I pray that our Savior Jesus Christ bless them with every good thing.

I wish them well, but it’s a journey I will not be following them on. Contemporary Lutheranism may have its flaws, but at its core the Lutheran tradition is deeply and fundamentally catholic. The riches of the catholic tradition are already ours, and at our best we embrace that heritage. I pray that our churches will delve deeper into that tradition. For what it’s worth, I believe that we will.

A new survey on American Evangelical beliefs reports grim news, according to an article published yesterday by Christianity Today. The first line says it all: “Most American evangelicals hold views condemned as heretical by some of the most important councils of the early church.”

The story goes on to highlight widespread confusion among Evangelicals on core doctrines like the Personhood of the Holy Spirit and the divinity of Christ. A full 51 percent of Evangelicals apparently deny that the Holy Spirit is a Person, instead conceiving of Him as “a force.” An additional 7 percent aren’t sure what to think on the subject. At the same time, 16 percent of Evangelicals think Jesus is a created being (another 11 percent were unsure), while 22 percent further believe He is less divine than the Father (with 9 percent unsure). The survey also suggests a large portion of Evangelicals hold Pelagian thoughts when it comes to the doctrine of salvation.

These are not small problems: there’s a reason these views were condemned by the early Church. So how are theologies condemned well over 1500 years ago finding a resurgence in contemporary Evangelicalism? The Christianity Today article suggests a failure in adult Christian education as one cause. Let me suggest another: these heresies are finding a resurgence because too many Protestants misunderstand the Reformation doctrine of sola scriptura. Too many Christians mistake “Scripture alone” as if it were a license for them to read the Bible aloneto read it apart from other people. You know the idea: “All I need is me and my Bible.” But that’s not what it means. It means that Scripture is alone authoritative, not that your personal (“alone”) interpretation of Scripture is authoritative.

While Scripture itself is clear on matters of salvation, it nevertheless can be (and often is) misinterpreted by sinful people. Jesus Himself faced this danger when the devil suggested to him misinterpretations of the Word of God (Matthew 4:5-6). We fool ourselves if we think we are somehow exempt from this danger. Christ, of course, did not fall for the devil’s suggested misreading. Unsurprisingly, the Word of God made Flesh knows the written Word of God better than does Satan. But we on the other hand can and do fall into such errorbe it error suggested by our own sinful minds, the errant teachings of others, or, indeed, by the devil himself.

Personal piety and a desire for truth are not guarantees that we always read Scripture aright. Consequently, we must rely upon our brothers and sisters in the faith to correct and rebuke us when we err, demonstrating our errors by Scripture (2 Timothy 3:16). And this reliance on brothers and sisters refers not merely to those Christians who happen to be alive at the same time as us. Instead, it refers to the whole Christian Church, throughout time. We rely on those who have gone before us. They too get a say in the matter. As G. K. Chesterton has wonderfully put it, this sort of tradition is a “democracy of the dead.”

Of course, doctrine is not itself a matter of democracy per se; we don’t (or at least ought not) vote for dogma in the Church. Dogma is a matter of truth, not popular opinion. But Chesterton’s words remind us that it is arrogant to ignore the teachings of our forefathers in the faith. They faced many of the same theological questions we do today, and their answers have stood the test of time.

Regrettably, too many churchesand this criticism applies not just to Evangelicalsoperate as if the history of the Church were unimportant. Our individualistic society no doubts feeds into this “just the Bible and me” mentality. But Scripture was not given for the benefit of you or me alone. Instead, it was given for the benefit of the Church, throughout history and throughout the world. Consequently, we ought to read Scripture together as a Church. The Church as a body has centuries of experience of reading the Word, of immersing itself in the language of God. We should take it seriously, therefore, when it suggests our own individual readings of Scripture are straying from the mark.

We don’t follow the theological pronouncements of the Church merely because such and such a person says we should. Bishops and councils, after all, can err (remember the Robber’s Council?). But certain pronouncementslike the theological statements of the Ecumenical Councilshave long been recognized by the Church at large as true and faithful understandings of Scripture. They have codified important Scriptural truthson the Nature of Christ, for example, and on the Personhood of the Holy Spiritand so we refer to them as authoritative. That’s how the Nicene Creed came to be. These pronouncements do not invent new dogma not found in the Scriptures; instead, they clearly and carefully reproduce the teachings of Scripture. Consequently, they rightly norm our interpretation of the Scriptures. It’s Tradition in service to Scripture, not Tradition on the same level as Scripture.

This is a more accurate understanding of the Reformation understanding of the relationship between Scripture and Tradition (and, indeed, explains why Lutherans can consider the Lutheran Symbols authoritative). We cannot simply reject the history of the Church. True, where Tradition is appealed to as a source of new dogma, we are right to resist it. But when Tradition codifies and clearly re-presents the teachings of Scripture, it is to be accepted as a norming influence on our individual reading of Scripture.

Philipp Melanchthon explains the Lutheran position well: “Let the highest authority be that of the Word which was divinely taught,” he explains. “Thereafter that church which agrees with that Word is to be considered authoritative.” And again: “Let us hear the church when it teaches and admonishes,” he writes, “but one must not believe because of the authority of the church. For the church does not lay down articles of faith; it only teaches and admonishes. We must believe on account of the Word of God when, admonished by the church, we understand that this meaning is truly and without sophistry taught in the Word of God.”

Christianity Today’s report suggests that some Protestants have forgotten this right relationship between Scripture and Tradition. We are right to trust in Scripture alone; but it is foolhardy to read Scripture by ourselves.

]]>Mathew Blockhttp://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2014/10/heresy-in-american-evangelicalismUprooting the Christian Masculinity Complexhttp://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2014/09/uprooting-the-christian-masculinity-complex
Fri, 26 Sep 2014 06:00:00 -0400Do You Have the Balls to Worship at America’s Manliest Church?” That’s the html header of a recent article at Vocativ profiling Pastor Heath Mooneyham of Ignite, a church in Joplin, Missouri. This is “a church for dudes by dudes,” we read, “with a core mission to win over men, ages 18 to 35.” And what’s the best way to do that? Heavy drinking, sexual innuendo, and crude language, apparently. Oh, and raffling off assault rifles at church.

“Week after week, Mooneyham uses the gospel to punch back against what he perceives to be a rising tide of emasculation,” the article reads. “He’s delivered a series of Sunday talks called ‘Grow a Pair’ and ‘Band of Brothers,’ and the church offers male leadership courses with titles like ‘Spartan’ and ‘Fight Club.’ He’s performed baptisms at Ignite-sponsored tailgate parties and instructed married couples to go home and have sex every day for a week. And there’s rarely a Sunday where Mooneyham doesn’t praise a big truck, a big gun or a pair of big balls in the same breath that praises Christ.”

In other words, this isn’t some sissy church. These are real men. You can tell because of how often they mention guns and male genitalia. Got that?

Ignite’s approach to mission is nothing new; it’s just the latest example in the Muscular Christianity movement which dates back to the nineteenth century. And the danger now, as then, is that some Christians are allowing cultural concepts of masculinity to dictate our theology, rather than letting our theology dictate our understanding of gender roles. So it is that we end up glorifying a “warrior” concept of the Christian manbe it as a knight in shining armor (à la Wild at Heart) or the more in-your-face, gun-toting, beer-swilling version of manhood we get from Ignite.

In any case, the problem is that the idea that Christian men should think of themselves primarily as “warriors” simply isn’t biblical. I’ve written on this at length before in an article for Converge Magazine entitled “Christian Masculinity: The Man God Hasn’t Called You To Be.” Permit me to repeat some of what I said there:

“The ‘warrior’ cannot be our fundamental identity. After all, the biblical concept of battle is one primarily of response to outward aggression: A shepherd boy becomes a warrior after the Philistines invade; the Israelites are oppressed and then a Judge rises to protect them. Even when God sends the Hebrews to claim the land promised to their ancestors, it is clear these people are not warriors by birth. They were born slaves; they have to learn the art of warfare. Even God is not, at His core, a warrior; He wars solely because of outward opposition. He can be in and of Himself good; He can be in and of Himself loving (expressing that love between the Persons of the Trinity). But He cannot be, in and of Himself, a warrior. That role exists only because others challenge God. It is necessary only because of sin.”

I am not advocating pacifism or saying Christians can’t serve as police-men or in the armed forces. Some people have those God-given vocations, and there are just reasons for waging war. But it is dangerous to assume, as Wild at Heart does, that “in the heart of all men, there is a desperate desire for a battle to fight.” That idea takes a vocation that is sometimes necessary because of outside forces and instead makes it the inner-nature of men. Consequently, we go looking for fights rather than merely responding to them.

To better understand the Christian male’s calling as a male, it’s helpful to go back to the beginningto examine what the Scriptures tell us about the creation of the first man, and what God intended for Him to be. And the simple fact is, when God created Adam he didn’t make a warrior; he made a gardener.

Gardening isn’t easy work. It demands great labor andsince the Fallrequires the sweat of our brow. It’s dirty and it’s tiring. It involves careful, perhaps even painful, pruning. Ultimately, it even demands recognizing that your work on its own is not enough. You need the sun to shine. You need the rain to fall. You need God to make something out of your own weak and feeble efforts.

This gives us a glimpse, I think, into what an authentically Christian masculinity is intended to beone characterized by hard work, patience, and reliance on God. No, it’s not exactly glamorous work. It won’t make you “cool” in the eyes of those who care about coolness. And maybe it won’t attract young men into your church the way advertising a gun give-away might. But gardening brings the one thing every Christian should desiregrowth. It brings maturity. And this, by the grace of God, leads in the end to a harvest that matters.

]]>Mathew Blockhttp://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2014/09/uprooting-the-christian-masculinity-complexLutherans Left out in the Coldhttp://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2014/07/application-to-lwf-not-approved
Thu, 17 Jul 2014 16:30:00 -0400The North American Lutheran Church’s (NALC) application to join the Lutheran World Federation (LWF) has not been approved. In a May letter announcing the decision, the LWF’s General Secretary Martin Junge judged the NALC’s application lacking in a number of ways. He questioned the way the NALC describes the LWF to its members, subsequently calling into question the ratification process by which the church voted to join the LWF. General Secretary Junge further declared “a prevailing fundamental problem in the fact that while applying for membership into the LWF, the NALC is not prepared to be in communion with all member churches, particularly those of the North American region.” This must be rectified, he writes, “as a necessary first step . . . in view of the NALC’s desire to become a member of the LWF.”

In other words, because the NALC is not in communion with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America (ELCA) and the Evangelical Lutheran Church in Canada (ELCIC)churches they broke away from over significant theological differences regarding the nature of Scriptural authoritythe LWF is rejecting the NALC’s application. Or, perhaps more accurately, the LWF has simply refused to decide on the NALC’s application, relegating it to an ill-defined “pending” status.

The NALC officially formed in 2010 from congregations, laypeople, and clergy that broke away from the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America (and of Canada) over issues of scriptural authority. The crisis point came following the ELCA’s 2009 decision to bless same-sex relationships and allow noncelibate homosexual people to be ordained. That decision has had a significant impact on the ELCA’s membership, resulting in a loss of nearly half a million members in 2010 and 2011 alone. In 2012 (the year most recently reported), the numbers continued to fall, as the ELCA lost another 105 congregations and saw a membership drop of 2.68% over the year previousbringing the ELCA to under 4 million members for the first time ever. In total, then, from 2010-2012 the ELCA lost 13.2% of its total membership (compared to 2009 figures). Meanwhile, the North American Lutheran Church has grown to more than 140,000 members, with more than 370 congregations throughout the United States and Canada.

Bishop John F. Bradosky, head of the NALC, responded to General Secretary Junge’s decision in a letter last week requesting clarification. In it, he asks what exactly the LWF means when it says the NALC’s application is pending. “Does that indicate there will be further action, or that you will be waiting further response from us?” he writes. “Does ‘pending’ mean that you intend further action, or does it indicate our application is not approved and the process is at an end?”

Bishop Bradosky further questions General Secretary Junge’s characterization of the NALC as misrepresenting the LWF to its congregations. “We have made every effort to clarify [the LWF’s self-understanding] to the NALC as a whole, and have indicated that to you. Our members have read the LWF constitution, debated these issues and are well-informed regarding LWF as ‘communion.’ They voted in convocation to affirm the constitutional understandings, and two-thirds of our congregations ratified these actions.”

He goes on to ask why “interaction and relations with LWF member churches in North America” is necessary before the NALC’s membership in the LWF can be considered. “This has never been presented to use as ‘a necessary first step,’” he notes.

Indeed, while the LWF considers itself a communion, a number of member churches have broken fellowship with other member churches in recent years. For example, last year the Ethiopian Evangelical Church Mekane Yesusone of the largest Lutheran churches in the world with over six million membersended fellowship with the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America and the Church of Sweden over issues of sexuality. If such a large church can continue membership in the LWF unopposed while declaring itself out of fellowship with others in the LWF, why can’t NALC do the same?

But perhaps the most significant question Bishop Bradosky raises is whether LWF General Secretary Junge has ignored standard protocol in relegating NALC’s application to “pending” status. “Our understanding from the start has been that at some point, a recommendation would be made to the LWF Membership Committee, who would decide whether or not to bring our application to the LWF Council,” Bishop Bradosky writes. “Instead, it appears you have made the decision not to approve our application, circumventing the Membership Committee and Council.”

The Membership Committee is composed of 48 persons, and includes a number of members from the Global South who might be expected to sympathize with the NALC. Indeed, one of the reasons behind the NALC’s decision to apply for membership in the LWF was because “Lutheran brothers and sisters in Africa, especially in Ethiopia and Tanzania” directly asked the NALC to join, in order to provide them with “an orthodox, confessional North American partner within LWF.”

Read both General Secretary Junge’s letter and Bishop Bradosky’s response in the July issue of NALC News (pages 10-11).

]]>Mathew Blockhttp://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2014/07/application-to-lwf-not-approvedHow Sex is Derailing Lutheran-Orthodox Dialoguehttp://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2014/07/liberal-protestantism-a-stumbling-block-to-lutheran-orthodox-dialogue
Tue, 08 Jul 2014 10:57:00 -0400The outcome of the dialogue in Tallinn was sobering, as it is difficult to come closer on substantive issues. The question of women’s ordination is regarded as church-dividing, at least from the Orthodox angle . . . Consequently I think we on the Lutheran side have to think about whether progress in dialogue is to be expected at all.”

These sobering reflections come from Rev. Dr. Jennifer Wasmuth, a participant in the Joint Commission for theological dialogue between the Lutheran World Federation (LWF) and the Orthodox Church, following recent discussions in Estonia. The meeting, which took place May 8-13, focused on the question of women’s ordination. If Wasmuth’s words above are anything to go by, it doesn’t sound like it was the most fruitful of discussions.

As Wasmuth explains, “The simple and crucial difference is that ordaining women is not recognized in Orthodox churches, while in most Lutheran churches it is not only recognized but already practiced.”

This is not exactly newsfemale ordination among churches of the Lutheran World Federation has been a perennial strain on ecumenical relations with the Orthodox (and Roman Catholics for that matter) for some time. The election of female bishops by some Lutherans has only exacerbated tensions. In 2010, for example, the election of a female bishop in the Evangelical Lutheran Church of Finland prompted statements of concern from the nation’s Catholic and Orthodox leaders. “As a theological decision, it is a step away from efforts toward unity,” Archbishop Leo of the Finnish Orthodox Church noted.

A year earlier, the election of a woman as head bishop of the Evangelical Church in Germany (EKD) brought a quick rebuke from the Russian Orthodox Church. “We planned to celebrate the 50th anniversary of our dialogue with the Lutheran Church in Germany in late November or early December,” Metropolitan Hilarion of Volokolamsk noted at the time. “The 50th anniversary of the dialogue will become the end of it.” The EKD eventually canceled celebrations altogether when Metropolitan Hilarion decided not to attend.

Not long after that declaration, Metropolitan Hilarion summarized the problems at play in Orthodox-Lutheran dialogue in an interview with Der Spiegel. “Many Protestant churches have liberalized their notions of ethics, giving a theological justification to homosexuality and blessing same-sex couples,” he said. “Some refuse to consider abortion to be a sin. We do not share the understanding of the Church and church order, especially as the Protestants, unlike the Orthodox and Catholic Churches, ordain women.”

Likewise, a 2011 Inter-Orthodox evaluation of dialogue between the Orthodox and the LWF on the global level noted similar issues straining relations. “The ordination of women on all levels of clerical orders,” it wrote, “is a clear deviation from Christian practice,” as is “the emergence of a new moral-code concerning human sexuality and especially homosexual relations.” “In the eyes of most Orthodox,” the report continued, “these new ecclesiological and controversial anthropological innovations in the Lutheran world constitute radical challenges and serious obstacles to the Orthodox-Lutheran theological dialogue and to its original aim, namely, the promotion of mutual ecclesial rapprochement and, eventually, of Church unity.” While the report recognized much good had come from discussion with the LWF, it nevertheless concluded that issues like women’s ordination and innovative teachings on human sexuality “call into question the value of much that we have achieved in our dialogue.” “Lutherans should understand,” the report continues, “that these issues are major difficulties in our dialogue and may jeopardize its continuation and success.”

In other words, the major roadblocks to progress in Lutheran-Orthodox discussions are actually the hallmarks of liberal Protestantismhallmarks of the theological direction that many churches of the Lutheran World Federation have taken. They are also, unsurprisingly, the same problems which have been frustrating LutheranRoman Catholic dialoguesomething I’ve written about before. But as I wrote in that earlier post, it’s important to note that liberal Lutheranism isn’t the only game in town: There also exist confessional Lutheran churches like those of the International Lutheran Council (ILC)churches which remain faithful to the Church’s historic teaching on the subjects of sexuality and female ordination. Consequently, just as Roman Catholics and ILC Lutherans have begun looking to each other for closer relations, it may well be that in the future Orthodox Christians find closer agreement with confessional Lutherans than with the LWF.

Mathew Block is editor of The Canadian Lutheran magazine and communications manager for Lutheran ChurchCanada. He also serves as editor for the International Lutheran Council. He tweets @captainthin. The header image comes from a 1574 translation of the Augsburg Confession into Greek, which was sent to Patriarch Jeremias II of Constantinople. This was the first (albeit short-lived) Orthodox-Lutheran dialogue. In Greek, the title reads: “A Confession of the Orthodox Faith.”

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So spoke many of us while confessing the Athanasian Creed a little while back on Trinity Sunday. But for those of us who are not “Roman” Catholic, speaking this way inevitably leads to a few raised eyebrows. On more than one occasion, I’ve heard fellow Lutherans ask the question: “Why did we say those words today? After all, we’re not really catholic... are we?”

The word is all the more striking for Lutherans of my tradition (ie, confessional Lutheranism) because our liturgy tends to substitute the word “Christian” for “Catholic” in the Apostles’ and Nicene Creeds. We believe in “one holy Christian and Apostolic Church,” we say. This translation is actually an old traditionolder than the Reformation itself, in factbut its continued use by English-speaking Lutherans can cause confusion. It sounds to many like a rejection of the “catholic” label. We’re Christian, we seem to be saying, but not Catholic.

Not so with the Athanasian Creed: Our liturgy retains the word “catholic” here. “Whoever desires to be saved must, above all, hold the catholic faith,” reads the first line. So when Trinity Sunday rolls around, congregants end up surprised. “Okay, so we’re catholic,” they concede. “But what does that mean?”

Mark Dever delves into just that question in a recent Christianity Today article subtitled “What We Mean When We Profess ‘One Catholic Church.’” In his article, Dever, a Baptist minister, traces the history of the word “catholic,” briefly outlining its evolution as the word gained additional meanings in the history of the Church. The catholic faith is authentic. It is orthodox. And it is also global.

In short, the catholic Church is a universal Church, Dever argues. “According to Scripture, the church is a universal entity, and anyone can be a part of it,” he writes. Consequently, it includes all believers in Christ, regardless of denominational affiliation. Dever therefore warns his readers that Christians must not draw denominational boundaries too sharply; doing so is to deny the catholicity of the Church.

I agree with Dever up to a point: anyone who believes in Christ for salvation is certainly part of the Church, regardless of denominational affiliations. Lutherans have long confessed faith in the “invisible” Churchthat is to say, we confess that the Church is “properly speaking, the assembly of saints and those who truly believe,” as Philip Melanchthon puts it in the Augsburg Confession. Belief then is what makes one a member of the Church, not denominational affiliationcontra Roman Catholic doctrine which equates the invisible Church with a visible churchly institution. (This distinction, by the by, is why I’ve written elsewhere that I’m too catholic to be Catholic.)

Belief in the invisible Church does not, however, mean that denominational affiliation is unimportantand it’s here that I take exception to Dever’s article. “Since we all profess the same faith in the same Lord, the denominational lines that distinguish us from other Christians should never mark an ultimate separation,” he writes. “Insofar as denominations do not breed an uncharitable and divisive spirit, and allow Christians to work for the kingdom, they can be helpful. But what unites us as Christians must always be valued more highly than the things that distinguish us.”

Far be it from me to disparage the unity that believers in Christ share in spite of denominational differences. But it sounds to me like Dever would have us go beyond this, diminishing the importance of denominational distinctives more than is wise. As a Lutheran, I would say that the doctrines of Baptismal Regeneration and the Real Presence (just two examples) are of incredible importance. Other Christians may disagree with our understanding of these sacraments, but we cannot “value” them “less highly” merely because others disagree with us. These things are vital to the life of the Christian, and diminishing them diminishes the Gospel.

The universality of the Church is, through God’s grace, a reality despite doctrinal disagreements; but it is not a license for the downplaying of these doctrinal differences. The Church catholic is also the Church apostolicwhich is to say, it is the Church which “stands firm and holds to the traditions” which have been taught through the words of the Apostles (2 Thessalonians 2:15). And this teachingwhich is truly the Word of God (2 Timothy 3:16, 2 Peter 1:19-21)has been passed on to us today in its fullness through the Scriptures.

To be catholic, then, is to be heirs of the apostolic faith. It is to be rooted firmly in the Apostle’s teaching as recorded for us in Scripture, the unchanging Word of God. But while this Word is unchanging, it does not follow that it is static. The history of the Church in the world is the history of Christians meditating upon Scripture. We must look to this history as our own guide in understanding Scripture. To be sure, the Church’s tradition of interpretation has erred from time to timewe find, for example, that the Fathers and Councils sometimes disagree with one anotherbut it is dangerous to discount those interpretations of Scripture which have been held unanimously from the very beginning of the Church.

This tradition of meditation, of course, cannot invent new dogmait is “not a source of dogma qua dogma,” as Hearth R. Curtis explains well in a 2005 Lutheran Forum article entitled “The Relation between the Biblical and Catholic Principles.” But it is nevertheless, “the source of apostolic interpretation which norms our interpretation of the apostolic Scriptures.” In other words, Scripture is the sole source of dogma for the Church, but the Church’s tradition of meditation “establishes how that source is to be interpreted.” It is in this sense that the three ecumenical creeds are understood to be authoritative: not because they invented new doctrine (they didn’t), but because they carefully codified truths already present in the Scriptures.

In this way the Church’s tradition of meditation guides us into a proper understanding of Scripture. No Christian denomination, therefore, can reject interpretations of Scripture universally acknowledged by the early Church without impairing its commitment to being the one holy catholic and apostolic Church. For the Church’s tradition of meditation, as a faithful interpretation of the Scriptures, itself becomes a standard to which subsequent interpretations can be measured. And yes, this catholic interpretation extends to doctrines now considered denominational distinctives (for example, the doctrine of the Real Presence). Denominations which reject such catholic teaching therefore, in essence, reject part of what it means to be catholic.

On the other hand, that church body which accepts the Scriptures as the sole source of authority in the Church and further acknowledges the tradition of the Church as a norming interpretive principle in understanding the Scriptures may rightly call itself catholic. It is in this sense then, finally, that Lutherans confess themselves to be heirs of the catholic tradition. “The churches among us do not dissent from the catholic church in any article of faith,” Melanchthon declares in the Augsburg Confession. “There is nothing here that departs from the Scriptures or the catholic church, or from the Roman Church, insofar as we can tell from its writers.”

Centuries later, Herman Sasse could assert the same: “It was no mere ecclesiastico-political diplomacy which dictated the emphatic assertion in the Augsburg Confession that the teachings of the Evangelicals were identical with those of the orthodox Catholic Church of all ages,” he writes. “The Lutheran theologian acknowledges that he belongs to the same visible church to which Thomas Aquinas and Bernard of Clairvaux, Augustine and Tertullian, Athanasius and Ireneaus once belonged.”

So are confessional Lutherans catholic? Yes. And we always will be, so long as we hold fast to the traditions of the Apostles, written in the Scriptures and faithfully passed down to us by the Church. Consequently, I cannot help thinking that those seeking out a “Protestant Future” should in fact be looking to the Protestant Past. Looking for a church which faithfully receives the catholic tradition while clearly proclaiming the authority of Scripture? Looking for a church which is both sacramental and devoted to salvation by grace through faith alone? Looking, in other words, for an Evangelical Catholic Church? It already exists. It’s called Lutheranism.

]]>Mathew Blockhttp://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2014/06/are-lutherans-catholicWhat If We Find the Holy Grail?http://www.firstthings.com/blogs/firstthoughts/2014/04/miracles-and-the-holy-grail
Tue, 29 Apr 2014 09:40:00 -0400Back on Maundy Thursday, I became aware that the Holy Grail had been found“again,” as the National Post quipped. The comment alludes to the fact that numerous pretenders to the Grail have been championed over the centuriestwo hundred such “grails” exist in Europe alone, as the Guardian notes. The most recent claimant to the titleoutlined in a new book entitled Kings of the Grailis a goblet at a basilica in Leon, Spain.

English culture is saturated with Grail lore, from medieval legends of King Arthur to contemporary re-imaginings like Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Common to many of these tales is the idea that the Grail possesses supernatural powers. In Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur, for example, it provides King Arthur’s court with miraculous food and drink. The recent influx of visitors to see the newly-christened grailthe Guardian article above reports the basilica had to remove the cup from public display as the room was too small to accommodate the crowdscan be attributed in part, no doubt, to the belief that a pilgrimage to see it might just earn one a miracle.

To be sure, God has at various points in the past used physical objects to convey his miraculous power. We think of Moses’ staff held aloft as the Red Sea parted (Exodus 14); the bronze serpent which brought healing to the Israelites afflicted by poisonous snakes (Numbers 21:4-9); handkerchiefs touched by Paul which healed the sick and possessed (Acts 19:11-12); and even the mud which Jesus applied to a blind man’s eyes at his healing. God has often chosen physical means by which to mediate his power. The Incarnation itself is this concept writ large: God places Himself into mortal flesh, so that in Christ we may truly see “the image of the invisible God” (Colossians 1:15).

Lutherans like myself should not, therefore, simply deny the possibility that this or that physical objector relic, if you willmight be used by God to convey miraculous power. He’s done it before; he can do it again if he so chooses. But there is a danger in putting too much stock in such relics, even if they are what they purport to be. One can easily slip from faith in the God who wrought wonders through an object to an idolatrous faith in the power of the object itself. This is precisely what occurred in the case of the bronze snake mentioned earlier. We read that in Hezekiah’s time it became necessary to destroy the snake, for the Israelites had begun to honor as if it had power itselfas if it were, in fact, a god (2 Kings 18:4).

If the cup used at the Last Supper were ever proved to be found, the event would of course be of great significance to Christians. As a tangible connection to Jesus’ life on earth, it would bring comfort and peace to manymuch as visiting sites in the Holy Land already affects Christians today. The same is true for those who find comfort in viewing other relics purported to be connected to the life of Jesuspieces of what is said to be the True Cross, for example.

Even if a relic could be proved to be the Holy Grail to the exclusion of all other claimants, Christians would be wise to heed the words of Charles Williams. In his novel War in Heaven, the Grail is discovered in small rural church in England. The Archdeacon of Fardles finds in the Grail peace and joy. And while the vessel is presented in the novel as supernaturally powerful, the Archdeacon confesses, as we all ought to confess in such a moment, “Neither is this Thou.” Whatever worth the relic has, it is still not God. Seeking it for its own sake, apart from God, is to enter into idolatry.

At any rate, the Scriptures make clear that the cup used by Jesus at the Last Supper was never the miracle in and of itself; the miracle of that night was what happened inside the cup. It’s a miracle that we, two thousand years later, still share in whenever we receive Holy Communion. Jesus spoke of the bread: “Take, eat; this is my body” (Matthew 26:26). And he said also of the cup, “Drink of it, all of you, for this is my blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Matthew 26:27-28). This miraclethe bestowal of Christ’s body and blood to the communicant, and the forgiveness they bringstill happens in churches throughout the world today. Christ gives us his true body and blood as we eat the bread and drink the wine. And this miracle is in no way limited, even though the cup we use is not the Holy Grail of legend.

When it comes to relics, we cannot always be certain that this or that object has truly been chosen by God as a vessel of grace. Is this cup really the Grail? Is it another cup? Or was it lost to history shortly after the Last Supper? The history of Grail lore, like many relics, is long on assertions and short on certainty.

But there are some earthly means of God’s grace in which we can be certainnamely, Word and Sacrament. God gives us his Word in human language, printed on real paper with real ink, repeated aloud by real human voices. That God’s Word can be put in human tongues is indeed a miraclea miracle through which God promises to work another miracle: the creation of faith (Romans 10:17). So too, in baptism God works a miracle through earthly means. He mixes the promise of forgiveness with simple water, and through this sacrament makes us partakers in Christ’s death and resurrection (Romans 6:3-4). The Lord’s Supper too is a miracle, as we have noted earlier: Christ gives us himself in the flesh and in the blood, as we take up man-made bread and wine in remembrance of him (1 Corinthians 11:23-26). These miracles are certainGod himself has promised to be active through these earthly means. God help us to treat them as the miracles they are.